GURUS AND HORDE RIDDERS

Eyes drawn further back
To the cheese club
What custodian anchors
Deep driven thought of the moon
Beneath west lit lights
And plain pampered bread buns
On top the wooden table
Jewel conversations
Captures smiles and some laughs
And a glimmer of tedious thoughts
Pinged back and fourth
By a thick man mastered of all rhetoric
And what of divinity
With its red and black
Or was it black and red
The most domineering of colours
Short walk to Clapham
With a shy avoidance of a particular Goddess
Of which some snide remark was made indecisive
Revealing all the plot too soon
A concession came quick afront
The confession that poisoned my neck
From then on her name had held my tongue
And her face had me run out of breath

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